“Vin!” His back is streaked with dried blood where his stitches opened, and I stop him, my hand light on his arm. Immediately, he relaxes, his shoulders visibly softening. He’s still angry, but at least he’s listening. “Your stitches. We need to get Dr. Rossi to clean them up.”
He nods and looks at my hand on his arm. “Sophie, I can’t do this.”
“You can’t be upset about this,” I correct him. “This is my life. My restaurant is my priority. That’s not going to change for any reason. Not because of this baby. Not because of us. I need you to respect that and let me go.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Then he picks up his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Letting the guards know you’ll need their supervision while I’m getting stitched up.” Everything about him is flat, efficient. Business-like.
I stare at him. “Vin.”
“It’s not negotiable.” He slides the phone into his pocket, and twists to check out the damage to his stitches in the mirror over the dresser like the conversation is over.
“This, Vin.” I slap his arm, frustrated. “This right here is why I can’t be with you. What we do in the bedroom is one thing. But you cannot treat me like you own me out in the world. I have responsibilities. I am independent, and I have been my entire life. Long before you, long before any of this. If you can’t respect that, then you don’t respectme, and if you don’t respect me, then you don’t actually love me. You just want to possess me. And I want nothing—nothing, Vin—that isn’t 100 percent mutual.”
I let the silence fall heavy between us as Vin and I stare at each other for what feels like a very long time.
Then he nods once and pulls his phone out again, typing without speaking. I wait, my coat half on, not sure what’s coming.
“I’ve arranged a plane and a car to take you to the Arsenal.” He doesn’t look up from the screen. “The car will be waiting outside the restaurant when the restaurant closes to bring you back here tonight.”
“Vin, that’s not what I said.”
“That’s the compromise.” His eyes are very dark, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “You want your restaurant, you’ve got it. You want your independence, you have that too. But if you think I’m letting you walk out of here in the middle of a war with my baby inside you and zero protection, you don’t fucking know me at all.”
I throw my hands up. I don’t know how to say this any differently.
“I’m not making you stay, Sophie. I’m asking you to come back. There’s a difference.”
Frig. There is a difference.
I glance at the hole in the wall and back at him. I only found out about the pregnancy yesterday morning when I read Dr. Rossi’s email with the blood test results. Right before I told Vin. He’s actually handling all this pretty well, considering.
Honestly, he’s doing better than I am. I haven’t even had a chance to…think. Placing my hand over my stomach, I pull in a breath slowly.
“Fine,” I say.
He exhales hard and sits on the edge of the bed, his knees wide, and rests his elbows on his thighs watching me walk out thedoor.
44
VIN
After the plane takes off from the Demonio estate, my future wife and child on board, I watch the security camera on my phone long after it disappears.
Matti and Tommy knock at the door and clear their throats to announce themselves, and I hold up a finger silencing them as I hit dial and call Sophie’s guards.
Jett picks up on the first ring.
“What’s happening?”
“We’re in the air, boss. Just left.”
“I know that. How is she? Does she look okay? Does she look happy? Tired? What?”
Jett is silent a moment. “Uh. Hard to say, boss. She’s looking outthe window.”
